Crucifixed (Royal Bastards MC: NYC Book 2)

by B. B. Blaque

  They knew the kid who would’ve become Father Giovanni.

  It was time for them to meet Crucifix—the man who would make them confess before administering Last Rites.

  Holy Mary, Mother of God—even you can’t hear their prayers. They’re damned.

  Copyright © 2021 B.B. BLAQUE

  All rights reserved

  Cover Designer-Lou Gray/Gray Creations

  Cover Model-William Newton

  Photo credit-James Critchley Photography

  Editor-Proofed Positively

  The Royal Bastards MC is a COMPLETELY fictional 1% motorcycle club. The chapter depicted in this book is based out of NYC. They do not represent any MC known to exist. The Malevolent MC is also a COMPLETELY fictional 1% club based out of Brooklyn, Indiana, Louisiana, Georgia, and Florida. None of the chapters or characters in this book is meant to depict any known MC or riding club. None of the scenes portrayed in this book are from any actual events. The logo was conceived and designed solely for this series by Simply Defined Art Jay Aheer. Other artwork and teasers connected to this book were created by the author.

  ROYAL BASTARDS CODE

  PROTECT: The club and your brothers come before anything else, and must be protected at all costs. CLUB is FAMILY.

  RESPECT: Earn it & Give it. Respect club law. Respect the patch. Respect your brothers. Disrespect a member and there will be hell to pay.

  HONOR: Being patched in is an honor, not a right. Your colors are sacred, not to be left alone, and NEVER let them touch the ground.

  OL’ LADIES: Never disrespect a member’s or brother’s Ol’Lady. PERIOD.

  CHURCH is MANDATORY.

  LOYALTY: Takes precedence over all, including well-being.

  HONESTY: Never LIE, CHEAT, or STEAL from another member or the club.

  TERRITORY: You are to respect your brother’s property and follow their Chapter’s club rules.

  TRUST: Years to earn it...seconds to lose it.

  NEVER RIDE OFF: Brothers do not abandon their family.

  CONNECTIONS MENTIONED IN THIS BOOK

  RBMC NYC Chapter Rotten Apple (FOCUS)

  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08FTJP624

  RBMC Los Angeles, CA Chapter J.L. Lombard (Blayze)

  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08FTHJ749

  RBMC New Orleans, LA Chapter Crimson Syn (Jameson)

  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0882SBQ39

  RBMC-Tonopaugh, NV Chapter Nikki Landis (Grim & Azrael)

  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B088T4QMZY

  The character of The Bishop is in almost all of my books (except Angel to Butterfly-Golden Doll and the Sawree Duet)

  Redhook, Colt, Kash, Sundown, and The Bishop are all characters from my Masters MC/Malevolent MC series

  Prologue

  1 New York Groove

  2 Heaven and Hell

  3 Cry Little Sister

  4 The Lady Wore Black

  5 Sleeping in the Fire

  6 Every BreathYouTake

  7 Sweet Sister Isabella

  8 Sympathy For the Devil

  9 Lonely In Love

  10 Walk in the Shadows

  11 I Feel a Sin Coming On

  12 Come Back to Black

  13 Christian Woman

  14 Sold My Soul

  15 Like a Virgin

  16 The Longest Day of My Life

  17 Red Sharks

  18 God Was Never on Your Side

  19 This is Gonna Hurt

  20 Crucify the Dead

  21 The Oath

  22 How Did You Love?

  Epilogue

  Dedication

  Playlist

  Prologue

  “Giovanni! What do you think you’re doing?”

  That wretched old nun started to smack me with a yardstick as she screamed, “You disgusting . . . filthy boy! Leave that sister alone this instant!”

  I’m thinkin’ no.

  I felt the hard slaps on my back, but they were nothing in comparison to what’d been done to me so many times. Hit me. Beat me. I can take it! Give it your best shot!

  Her wailing wasn’t enough to make me stop—not then—not when I was about to bust a nut. She didn’t know what it felt like to be a teenage boy with a hard-on, believe me, nothin’ she was doin’ was gonna break my stride.

  “C’mon! Just a couple more strokes, sister . . . I’m almost there!”

  I can’t stop yet.

  I banged into Sister Antionette as hard as I could. Nothin’ the other nun was doin’ was worse than what I’d suffered at Antoinette’s hands. She never took no for an answer without punishment. When I didn’t do what she wanted and spill my evil seed, she was downnright vicious. At the moment, all I could think about was how good she felt and how hot it was to be mid-stroke and get caught with my dick in her wet pussy. I shoved up the back of her habit and pulled out to jerk off all over her ass. The last spurts hadn’t even stopped when Father Maurice’s hands grabbed my shoulders and yanked me back.

  “After all we’ve done for you! You motherless ingrate! Get your stuff and leave! Now!”

  I was wrestlin’ an arm away from him and tryin’ to get outta reach. He was a pretty tough old goat and we’d fought more than once.

  “Don’t ever come back here, Giovanni . . . so help me God, I’ll . . .”

  His fist was cocked back and I laughed, “You’ll what? Hit me? G’head! We can go a round for old time’s sake.”

  The priest put down his arm and I smirked. “Yeah, that’s what I thought! Wasn’t so hard when I was younger, but I’m taller and outweigh you now. Trust me, you’d regret it, old man.”

  I didn’t pay attention to the rest of what he was yelling as I walked to my bunk and threw stuff in a bag. There wasn’t a lot of shit and it only took a few minutes to be dressed, packed, and headed for the door. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of yellin’, cryin’, or lettin’ them know how scared I was. I’d gotten off and the thrill of gettin’ caught was subsiding fast. It was cold as a witch’s tit outside and had been flurrying on and off for most of the day. Welcome to Hell.

  I didn’t get to say goodbye to Snaps! I’ll go back for her when I get settled.

  That’s a really bad idea.

  When we grow up and she decides not to become a nun, we’ll be together.

  The night was colder than I expected and my good coat was locked inside the closet with the rest of the kids’ stuff. The flannel and sweatshirt were better than nothin, and when I found a place to stop for the night, I knew I could layer up.

  Then, I heard her yellin’ after me and stopped dead in my tracks under the streetlight. They’d be comin’ close behind and I didn’t want her to get in trouble. Me bein’ out on the streets was one thing. I was a grown boy and knew I could take care of myself. She was still too young and it woulda been a dangerous life for her. I knew a whole lotta nothin’ about nothin’, but I knew Fiona couldn’t come.

  I can still see her clearly—runnin’ toward me with those long red curls gettin’ coated with big snowflakes. Tears were streamin’ down her pretty face and it broke my heart. She was in a nightgown and fallin’ over her slippers—a complete and total mess.

  “What do you think you’re doin’, Fi?” I stopped and looked down on her as she panted big puffs of freezing breath. “You know they don’t want me there no more. I gotta go . . . into the City . . . I dunno . . . maybe upstate or to Jersey or somethin’. Me and Brooklyn need to say goodbye.”

  “Gio, you can’t go without me! I love you . . . we’ve talked about this. We can finally do it! We can run away and no one will ever find us.” She was panting hard and jumping up against my chest, almost excited. “
We can get married . . . we’ll figure it out! As long as we have each other, we can share bagels until we find a place and I learn to cook. You can’t go, Gio!”

  Then I had to do the hardest thing I’d ever done in the seventeen years I’d been alive. I had to be a prick to keep her safe.

  “C’mon, Fi, are you crazy? I can’t have some little kid followin’ me around the City! I’ve gotta be a man now, and I can’t worry about babysittin’ you.” I love you. Go back inside. “You couldn’t hack it out here . . . you’d just hold me back.”

  She jumped at me and her little fists pounded hard against my chest.

  “I don’t need a babysitter and I could handle it just fine out there! You don’t know! You don’t know, Gio! I’m tougher than you think! Maybe just as tough as you!”

  “Gingersnap, stop bein’ a baby throwin’ a tantrum. Go in and stay warm. I promise . . . I’ll always protect you. I’ll be there . . . somehow.” I grabbed her hands and held them to my mouth. “Fi, please . . . go be a nun. Let them take care of you. Now, I gotta take care of me and that’s all I can do.”

  I turned and walked away as I heard voices. They were coming to get her. I didn’t look back.

  She didn’t understand why I had to do it. Even though I’d been tortured since that night, I never regretted keepin’ her safe from the hell I survived after disappearing into the asphalt jungle of Manhattan.

  Her voice echoed in my head as I walked the streets of the City. I prayed she was alright and might forgive me eventually. I’ll never know either way. My life had taken a turn for the ugly. There wasn’t a pocket I wouldn’t pick or any level of shame that’d keep me from doin’ whatever it took to stay alive. The worse things got for me, the happier I was that I’d been a dick to make her go back. She was pissed—I knew that for sure. I’d become a complete scumbag to survive and was grateful she wasn’t there by my side. Shit was bad, but a teenage girl woulda been chewed up and spit out into the nearest gutter. Yeah, it was better to have her mad than livin’ in subway stations, layered in newspaper to stay warm. I never knew where I’d sleep and there wasn’t a whole lot of loyalty or respect in the crowd I was surrounded by. Other street people stole from me and one day, it just started. I needed to stay awake to keep an eye on my stuff. The more hours I was up and racin’, the more chances I’d have to make money.

  Enter crystal meth.

  I started usin’ pretty heavy and it wasn’t long before I was addicted to what seemed to be my savin’ grace. Crystal was my girlfriend—my best friend—and the thing that made it okay to go for a couple days without food. A meal would last a couple hours in my belly, but meth could last a day or more dependin’ on how much I did. My shit was safer, I didn’t get fucked with, and food didn’t even cross my mind. It was a good trade-off for a while. We had a pretty good relationship and I started dealin’ for the Royal Bastards motorcycle club so I could stay high. That’s when my girlfriend turned on me and gave me a total psychotic break.

  It happened so fast that night. I’d been up for days and was paranoid as fuck. That’s what made me keep an extra good eye on the president of the club. Some piece of shit was comin’ at him with a broken bottle and I went ballistic. Just as the glass was about to sink into his stomach, I grabbed the guy and started beating him and wouldn’t stop. All I remember was gettin’ pulled off and thrown into the back of a van.

  They took me to their clubhouse, locked me in, and made me get clean. When I got right, they never let me near their product—or anyone else’s—again. The Bastards were grateful for what I’d done. I killed the guy, they said. I don’t remember it on account of bein’ in a blackout rage. The next thing I knew, I was a prospect and then gettin’ patched out. I never slept on the streets again and finally had a family.

  It was no secret that I’d been a pubic hair away from becomin’ a priest. I mean, I was a long way from slippin’ into a collar, but in the scheme of things, I was a hang-around who was thinkin’ long and hard about becomin’ a full priestly patch. Clearly, that wasn’t my callin’.

  Giovanni was dead. Crucifix was alive and had everything he wanted—except her.

  Then came the day when Fi saw me out on the street. We recognized the grown-up versions of each other immediately. She was wearin’ a habit and I was a proud member of the Rotten Apple chapter, wearin’ my rag, covered in tattoos, slidin’ onto my bike. We tried to ignore what we saw, but it was too late. When she came over and started in about what’d happened, I flew off the handle and everything came spewing out.

  A brand new kinda Hell began with that one glance. I was gonna have her, die tryin’, or lose my fuckin’ mind from lovin’ her.

  1

  New York Groove

  Years later . . .

  It was great to be back in the City after all that time in La-La Land. Too many palm trees and not enough hustle could make a New Yorker lose his fuckin’ mind. I had to be sparing with that shit ‘cause there wasn’t a whole lot left.

  Royal Bastards Video was rockin’ and FOCUS and Nixx were gettin’ all their bullshit worked out. I was just glad to be back in my own territory. Blayze and them guys had been really cool about us bein’ out there and knew we weren’t tryin’ to step on their dicks, but still—it wasn’t the Big Rotten Apple. It wasn’t the Mounds Bar with our tits and asses shakin’ under the black lights. As I pulled up in front, it looked like I had a welcome home party goin’ on. All the guys’ bikes were parked in front and Rattler was bouncin’ since FOCUS was still on the left coast. I barely made it off the bike before he and Froot Loops ran over to hug me.

  “Brother, man! It’s been too fuckin’ long!” Rattler smacked at my back. “Do you even remember what real food tastes like after bein’ out there? I know there ain’t nothin’ good in Hollywood.”

  It was the God’s honest. There’s no food like New York City food, no matter what the fuck ya say. I’d been dyin’ for a bagel loaded with scallion cream cheese, bacon, and egg. I woulda gladly settled for some stupid dirty water dogs from the vendor on our corner. Los Angeles had some good shit happenin’, but food wasn’t on the list.

  “You’re tellin’ me! I’m surprised I haven’t wasted the fuck away to nothin’! A man cannot survive on pussy alone, and I don’t give a fuck who tries to say different.”

  I slapped hands with Froot Loops and headed toward the door. I needed to eat, get my dick sucked, and have someone without too much glitter tuck me in with a nightcap. Jet lag was gonna be a bitch.

  “Hey, can one of ya get Cassie to order me a calzone and a stuffed spinach slice from Tony’s around the corner? Rattler . . . you do it, bro’, since you’re the one who brought up food!”

  “Fuck you, man! Tell her yourself!”

  I glared back at Rattler. He’d been doin’ my job and FOCUS’ when we were out west, but he needed to remember his place.

  “Yo, don’t forget yourself, motherfucker! I was gone. I didn’t die. So unless you know somethin’ I don’t, I’m still the president and you didn’t magically step into my boots. Get on it, VP. I’ll be in the office.”

  He’d get over it. Rattler always thinks way too much of himself, and that can be an issue sometimes. I was back and still wore the president’s patch. He wasn’t gonna step into my spot or FOCUS’ as sergeant at arms. He was lucky we didn’t kick him off the board entirely. The shit with him dealin’ to his girls and all that fucked-up Vicious mess had him skatin’ on thin ice.

  A few of the chicks ran up to hug me and Rock Candy brought over a bottle of somethin’ and two glasses. Looks like she’s the one tendin’ to me tonight.

  Even gettin’ back to the same ol’ pussy was good. New York chicks aren’t plastic—except for some noses and tits. They know what I like and are more than happy to give it to me, even if it is sorta kinky. If one of our girls wouldn’t get into my shit, she’d always be a tiny infraction away from gettin’ the boot. I didn’t need a different bitch every night. I just needed to know if I said kneel, t
hey’d drop like a lead weight. Patience was somethin’ I didn’t have a lot of when I was horny, and if I picked someone, they needed to be ready.

  Rock Candy knew how it worked and called back on her way to the dressin’ room, “I’ve been very sinful while you were gone, Crucifix . . . . I need to confess somethin’ really awful.”

  She giggled and pushed through the door to Transformation Station—the girls’ dressin’ room.

  Fuck, I don’t need all that shit tonight. Suck my dick and lemme get some sleep.

  As soon as she walked out with the nun costume, I grabbed her arm. “Sorry, kid. Not tonight. I just flew across country and I’m beat the fuck up. I don’t feel like beatin’ you . . . at least not tonight. Lemme get back on New York time so I can do it justice. You can suck my dick, though.”

  She was always up for anything and didn’t really complain about too much. Helpin’ her atone for some imaginary sins and beatin’ her ass for them wasn’t where my head was at. I was too exhausted to fantasize about nuns—Gingersnap—and that’s all it was about. It was almost a godsend that I wasn’t into it after my trip. Thinkin’ about her and obsessin’ on it was a full throttle ride to my own personal Hell.

  Fuckin’ nun costume. I needed that like a good swift kick to the head.

  My fascination with nuns started when I was growin’ up in the orphanage. Basically gettin’ raped by one when I was hittin’ puberty spun it all out. It was some kinda test or somethin’, Sister Antoinette said. I guess I failed with flyin’ colors. Seein’ and feelin’ the soft skin under those long, black gowns was like a prayer I’d never prayed bein’ answered. When she climbed on top of me and put my cock inside her, it was like I died and went to Heaven. I wondered if I’d never felt what it’s like to be inside a pussy, if I would’ve given a fuck. A man can’t miss what he’s never had, but once I had it, I was hooked. I got my dick into as many chicks as I could. They thought they were gonna spare the rod for life and my rod made ‘em think twice about that decision. I never counted how many left after me, but I counted the only one I made stay when I really wanted her to leave—Sister Fiona.